Dangers of Summer
by Merrybeans
Summary: Nigel takes Sydney to the beach on a day off in England and finds keeping her entertained is more than he bargained for.


**A/N:** This was written as pure fun for Katy's birthday, earlier this summer. I'm taking this opportunity to plug two GREAT Relic Hunter-related sites set up and run by people here. First is "**Going Hunting**" by Angie and Katy. This is a MUST if you claim to be a RH fan.

Secondly, with help from the aforementioned gals, I've set up a RH fanfiction archive called "**Creating Relics**". It works in more or less the same way as ff.n but with (hopefully) more reliability. Please pop along for a visit! You can find this story there and hopefully in the future find unique pieces of RH fanfiction! You can find the links for both sites in my profile.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognise from _Relic Hunter_.

**Dedication:** To Katy.

---

It was hot. So hot that a thin glimmer hovered in the air over the horizon. The sun shone down fiercely, making up for all the time it had already lost in this wet and windy summer, and there was not a cloud in the sky.

Nigel sighed contentedly. He was lying flat on his stomach and he could feel the glorious heat of the sun relaxing every muscle in his back. Usually he complained to Sydney when it got too hot, but now – when he could lie down without worrying about being chased by mad, gun-wielding criminals or rival relic hunters, with a gentle breeze blowing off the sea, Nigel couldn't think of a more perfect situation. Well, perhaps if they had thought to bring a picnic with them…

At his side, he heard Sydney sigh and sit up. Reluctantly, he cracked open an eye. He really was feeling too lazy to move, but Sydney's sigh troubled him. He knew Sydney all too well, and he could just imagine that this inactive respite was boring her.

From his viewpoint, Nigel got an eyeful of smooth, golden skin. He swallowed and quickly scrambled into a sitting position where he could concentrate on Sydney's face. Her black bikini complimented her natural tan wonderfully, but it was also skimpy and showed off far too much flesh for his comfort.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

'Nothing,' replied Sydney. Intently, her eyes scanned up and down the beach, barely pausing over the typical British sun-seekers, until she focused on something. Nigel followed her gaze, intrigued by what had caught her eye.

Lifeguards. She was watching the lifeguards. Nigel frowned, his insides curling with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. Those young men strutted around the beach in their gold and scarlet feathers, looking like love-gods in supple skin and designer sunglasses, never realising the damage they did to normal mortal men.

'Are you watching the lifeguards, Nigel?'

Nigel jumped, his eyes darting back to Sydney. Her face was full of mirth, her voice laced with mocking sarcasm. 'Just keeping an eye on the competition,' he murmured.

A finger jabbed him in the ribs, making him squeak. 'What was that?' Sydney demanded, a dangerous, playful glint in her eyes.

Nigel rubbed his bare chest, glaring at Sydney. It had taken some persuasion to make him strip down to his swimming shorts, and if she was going to start getting all touchy-feely, he didn't think he'd be able to cope. 'Nothing, I just said they were making an exhibition of themselves.'

Sydney rolled her eyes. 'They're just doing their job.' Suddenly she jumped to her feet and Nigel's heart skipped a beat. She was being far too energetic in such a small, stringy swimming costume. 'Come on,' she demanded, and with a sinking feeling Nigel knew he had been right in thinking she was bored.

'What?' he groaned, trying to put as much feeling into that one word as possible. It was his day off, his last day in England, blessedly Preston-free and gloriously sunny for once, and she couldn't let him just relax!

'Let's go for a swim, Nigel.'

'In the sea?'

'No, Nigel,' Sydney replied sarcastically. 'In the huge vat of melted chocolate sitting on the beach. Get up!'

Nigel did as he was told, his cheeks flushing pink. It wasn't that he was cross about being ordered around – he was used to it now, and accepted it as part of Sydney's personality – but the idea of Sydney swimming in a vat of melted chocolate had sunk firmly into his mind. Sydney, in a vat of melted chocolate, in a very skimpy bikini. Suddenly the cool British sea looked hugely inviting.

'Fine,' he said loudly, keeping his eyes on the water and away from Sydney. 'Let's go.'

'Race you down there!' cried Sydney gleefully and she set off down the beach at a run. Nigel groaned. With reluctance seeping out of every pore, he slowly fell into a jog behind her. He hated running on sand: it was so damnably easy to twist an ankle!

Ahead of him, Sydney crashed into the low waves. Nigel heard her gasp as the white horses danced around her slender legs, but she didn't hesitate for a moment. Fighting her way through, knees kicking up the water as she tried to keep running, she soon disappeared out of sight in an elegant dive.

Nigel entered more sedately. Standing in several inches worth of water, he tried to pick his way through the stones and seaweed. The sea was as cold as it always was on the English coast, and he was experienced enough to know the best way in was slow and steady. From the shore, he watched as Sydney burst through the surface again, gasping.

'It's _cold_!' she cried.

Nigel smirked. 'It's perfectly warm,' he lied, calmly walking in up to his knees. A larger wave arrived out of nowhere and splashed him all the way up to his groin; Nigel valiantly stifled his squeal.

Sydney sunk low in the waters, trying the old trick of keeping your shoulders under to keep you warm. 'If it's so warm, why are you lurking on the shore?'

'We don't all have to make a spectacle of ourselves,' retorted Nigel primly, taking another daring step. Keeping his eyes half on Sydney and half on the waves, he splashed the water up his arms and across his chest.

Sydney rolled her eyes and struck out into a strong front-crawl. Nigel let her show off, determined that she shouldn't drag him in quicker than he wanted. He wasn't a wimp, he was just being sensible – he had heard of men getting heart attacks from entering cold seas too rapidly!

He was nearly up to his waist when Sydney dived completely under the water, disappearing from sight. Nigel looked up to the sun in disbelief, actually having to check that it was still in the sky. Why on earth was the sand so hot you could barely walk on it, but the sea cold enough to make you numb? _Why_ had he agreed to come swimming?

Suddenly there was an eruption behind him. Nigel yelled and turned round as water sprayed over his back.

Sydney – grinning like a maniac – leapt on him from behind, and forced him under the waves. Nigel went down with a cry, swallowing a huge mouthful of salt water. However clear it had looked from the shore, the sea was too cloudy here to make anything out, and Nigel was only aware of an embarrassing tangle of limbs, a slickness of wet skin sliding over his nearly-naked boss, a flurry of dark hair (or was it seaweed?) in his face.

The natural fear of drowning fought itself free and instinct kicked in: Nigel blindly struggled towards the surface. Bursting free, he gasped for air, retching from all the seawater he'd swallowed.

Sydney rose up gracefully beside him, flinging her hair backwards. With a laugh, she lent over towards Nigel, one hand stretched towards his face. Nigel jerked backwards, scowling fiercely, coughing pathetically.

With another light-hearted laugh, Sydney grabbed hold of his arm before he could get away. Using her other hand, she reached up and picked a slither of green seaweed from his face.

'See?' she said. 'That wasn't so bad now, was it?'

'That was totally uncalled for, Syd!' Nigel declared.

Flicking the seaweed away, Sydney smoothed his hair back off his forehead. Nigel froze at the intimacy, but Sydney simply dropped her hand when she was finished and continued talking. 'I was only helping you out: you were going about it all the wrong way. Now come and swim with me.'

'I'm not sure I want to now,' replied Nigel huffily, folding his arms over his freezing cold chest.

'Oh don't be such a spoil-sport,' said Sydney tartly, and set off in a front-crawl again.

Nigel sighed and grumpily watched her go for a moment, but he really couldn't stay cross at Sydney for a long time. Not, at least, over such a small thing! He should have seen it coming the moment she suggested swimming! With a small smile, he set off at a gentle breaststroke after her.

'Is that the best you can do?' called back Sydney, now much further along the beach and further out to sea as well. From the gentle bobbing of her head and the ripples to either side of her, Nigel could tell she was treading water.

'Correct me if I'm mistaken,' replied Nigel, 'but I thought you said this was a swim, not a race.'

Sydney laughed. 'Come out here, Nige! It's much warmer once you get beyond the waves.'

'No thank you. I'd rather stay within my depth in case you try to drown me again.'

'Yes,' replied Sydney, her voice thick with sarcasm, 'because I try to drown _all_ my best assistants!'

'Well it's nice to know I'm not the first to suffer such torture at your hands.'

Despite his serious tone of voice – or maybe because of it – Sydney burst into laughter again. She swam closer until she was only a few feet away from him and together they continued to glide up and down the stretch of sea. Nigel kept one eye carefully trained on his friend, just in case she tried any funny business again, but Sydney seemed happy to just swim.

Relaxing, Nigel enjoyed the gentle exercise, happy to be spending some _peaceful_ time with his friend for once. Too often, their "quality" time was snatched between plane flights and piles of paperwork. All too many times, they only had the energy to grab a cheap takeaway to share – no fancy restaurants or dainty cafes, no theatre or movie trips.

Eventually, Nigel felt himself begin to shiver. The cold was finally hitting in again: it was time to get out and warm up.

'I'm getting out now, Syd,' he called. She was distracted and he once again followed her eyes to the young lifeguards on the beach.

'Hmm?'

Nigel rolled his eyes. 'I'm getting out.'

To his surprise, Sydney replied, 'Yeah, me too. It's cold.'

'Cold?' mocked Nigel as they struck out to the shore. The tide was on the rise; the waves helped bear their bodies to the sand.

'Yes,' snapped Sydney. 'Your seas are _freezing! _'

'Well, if you remember, it was _you_ that wanted to swim.'

'Oh, shut up.'

Nigel laughed but when they actually emerged from the water and walked towards their towels, he saw goose pimples had sprung up all over Sydney's body and she was visibly trembling. A cloud had temporarily covered the sun, and Nigel cursed it.

'Here,' he said, offering Sydney his stripy towel.

'What's that for?' snapped Syd, the cold making her irritable. 'I've got my own.' To demonstrate this point, she picked up her towel and wrapped it round her shoulders. Her hair hung in wet strands around her face and – although he'd never dare tell her – Nigel had never seen her looking so pathetic or vulnerable.

'Well you can _sit_ on mine then,' he suggested, gallantly spreading it out on the floor.

'Don't be a fool, Nigel, you need it to dry off. I can sit on the sand perfectly well.'

'But then you'll get a sandy bum,' pointed out Nigel with a little smile, carefully keeping his eyes away from her derrière as he said this.

'But why should you get sandy instead of me?'

'_Because_,' started Nigel with some force now. (Stupid Sydney, would she never accept help easily?) 'I can go and wash off in the sea again. I'm far more used to these _freezing_ waters.'

Sydney studied him intently for a moment and then a grin broke on to her face. A hand came out of her towel to tuck her hair behind her ear. 'You're determined to have your way on this, aren't you?'

'Of course.'

Sydney shook her head at his folly, and sunk on to his towel. 'You're too much of a gentleman, Nige. Look, there's enough room for you too.'

Reaching up, she took hold of his hand and yanked him. Nigel knew it was better not to put up an argument and settled next to her. He hugged his knees to his chest, feeling Sydney's shoulder through the towel. He was immensely glad that towel _was_ there – if not, he'd be pressed up her bare skin!

The sun came out just then and Nigel focused on it as a change of direction for his flustered thoughts.

'We'll be dry in no time now.'

'Good,' replied Sydney. 'Never allow me to go swimming here again.' She shivered dramatically and Nigel gave her a rough jab with his elbow.

'It's not _that_ bad.'

'That's what _you_ say, Englishman!'

'I'm going to choose to ignore that,' Nigel said dryly as Sydney sprung to her feet.

'I think,' she said, 'I'll dry off quickest if I lay out in the sun.'

Nigel nodded. 'The sun's hot.' He watched her lay her towel out beside his and then delve in her bag for something. Despite being such a "gentleman", he couldn't help but watch her crouch down, admiring the length of her legs, her smooth curves…

Sydney spun on her heels to face him and threw something at him. Thinking he'd been caught out, Nigel blushed furiously and scrambled to catch the thing. It was – to his horror – a bottle of suntan lotion.

'Will you put some on my back?' asked Sydney carelessly.

'Err… sure.' Nigel cleared his throat and opened the bottle. With a horrid _splurch_ noise, the white ointment squished out into his upturned palm. Sydney moved to crouch in front of him, presenting him with her smooth, caramel-coloured back.

Nigel drew in a deep breath, and then used his free hand to carefully place her hair over one shoulder. Although it was starting to tangle from the salt water, her hair was as soft as he always imagined it would be.

Hands trembling, Nigel slowly started to apply the sun cream. It was nearly enough to undo him. Her skin was chilled, and he found himself longing to warm it up again. He ran two fingers down her spine and Sydney shivered deliciously. She said nothing, and Nigel continued his ministrations, smoothing the lotion into her skin with small circular movements.

'Make sure,' said Sydney suddenly, as his fingertips dashed across the edge of her bikini strap, 'that you do under the strap too, in case it moves.'

'Under?' squeaked Nigel.

'Yes, under, Nigel. Just move the strap out of the way.'

Nigel closed his eyes momentarily, praying that he could just get through this without making a prat of himself. Tentatively, he took hold of the offending strip of material and lifted it; with his other hand, he quickly spread suntan lotion over the exposed area.  
Internally, he sighed in relief as he let go of Sydney's bikini and added the last few touches to his 'job'.

'Are there any white streaks left?' Sydney asked.

'No,' replied Nigel truthfully. He had carefully made sure every little bit was rubbed well in!

Sydney smiled at him over her shoulder. 'I think you've had practice at this. Finished?' Without waiting for his reply, she snatched up the bottle. 'Turn around: I'll return the favour.'

Nigel gazed up at her in terror. He surely couldn't have understood her. Not only was she forcing him to touch _her_, but she expected him to willingly offer up his own back to her hands _too_?

'No, no, I'm fine!'

'Nigel, don't be silly: turn around.'

'No! I – I can do it myself.'

'You cannot put suntan block on your own back.'

'I can!'

Sydney glared at her assistant. 'Nigel, turn around. Now.'

Nigel knew that voice, and there was not a fibre in his being that could disobey it. Reluctantly, he turned, his entire body tense with apprehension.

'There,' said Sydney, kneeling down behind him. 'We can't have you burning now, can we?'

'Who said I burn?' he demanded grumpily, wincing as she squirted the cream onto his shoulders.

'I know you burn, Nigel.'

Nigel – preoccupied with trying to ignore her hands on him – couldn't come up with an answer. His nerves were on highest alert; every glance of her long fingers against his skin made him jump. Sydney knew how uncomfortable she was making him and, mischievously, she took far longer than necessary. Up and down his back, she moved her hands in firm strokes, taking the time to press her whole palms onto his skin.

'You must be done by now,' said Nigel irritably.

'You're so tense,' Sydney teased, 'you should relax.'

Nigel leapt away from her. 'I'm fine.'

Sydney laughed and rubbed her oily hands clean on a corner of her towel. Still smiling, she lay down on her front, offering up her back to the sun. Nigel sat rigidly beside her. He felt- _uncomfortable_, both hot and cold, neither upset nor satisfied. He watched the shoreline, unable to look at the woman lying beside him. All the seawater he had swallowed had left him thirsty and he cleared his throat repeatedly.

'Do you want me to pass you your book?' murmured Sydney.

'Hmm? Oh, no!' Nigel got to his feet, brushing sand off his hands. 'I'm going to go buy a drink. Do you want anything?'

'Mmmm, an ice-cream, please.'

'Right. One ice-cream, coming up.' Quickly Nigel gathered some money and jogged away from their spot. As he approached the little café on the edge of the beach, he was – for once – relieved to see a ridiculously long queue: there would be plenty of time for him to calm down!

By the time Nigel reached the head of the queue, he had changed his mind and ordered two ice-creams.

'Here we go,' said the teenage girl serving him, her spiky black hair sticking up at all angles. 'One mint choc chip and one rum and raisin.'

'Thank you,' replied Nigel politely. He paid and took up the two cones, but before he was even back on the sand, the ice-creams were melting. With some disappointment he began to eat his as he walked, trying to lick the treat before it ran over his fingers.

'Here,' he called, as he neared Syd. 'Quick: it's melting.'

Sydney – stretching like a cat – sat up and reached for her ice-cream. 'Rum and raisin? Mm, my favourite!' She took a big lick, made an appreciative noise, and then flashed Nigel a brilliant smile. 'Thanks, Nige.'

He returned her smile and sat down beside her again. 'That's okay. Sorry it melted – I think I ended up with half of it over my hand.'

'Then I'll just have to lick it off.'

Nigel turned another horrified look at her, thinking this day couldn't get any worse!

Sydney laughed. Swiftly, she leant over and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 'You really are too easy to tease, Nige.'

Nigel cleared his throat. 'Well…' he said. 'Well…'

Continuing to beam, Sydney returned to her ice-cream. 'Nigel?'

'Yes?'

'Thanks for bringing me to the beach.'

---

_A/N: Please review, and remember to check out those sites:)_


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